Despite the cold environment, her cheeks were warm and her blood flowed with excitement. The Detroit Red Wings had just scored another goal to end second period. It was all thanks to the "Michigan Mauler," the "Merciless Mercer" as some had grown to call him. Bobby Mercer was definitely a player from the streets of Detroit. Watching him play, it was quite apparent, what with all the violence and how many times he was benched, key signs of a street player from the area. She couldn't help but wince slightly when the player from the opposing team got hit by him.
It was an away game. Bree Keninio, the devoted Wings fan she was, had lost a bet. When a friend bet that the Wings couldn't beat Calgary, she accepted. The loser had to go to the opposing team's arena wearing the jersey of the losing team. It was a seemingly harmless bet, if a bit boring, but nonetheless, the Wings lost, so here she was, the Calgary stadium, decked out in wings jersey, foam finger, hat and face paint.
Her stomach growled and Bree decided to go get some sort of nourishment from the concession stand before the line got too long. Making her way through the crowd, she couldn't help but smile at all the funny looks she was receiving. She noticed a group closer to the beginning of the line look in her general direction and each face was home to a different disgusted look. She assumed they were looking at her and watched, but tried not to stare as she saw them make sarcastic comments to each other, or at least she thought that was what they were doing. She couldn't help but roll her eyes and wonder what she would do in that situation, had their roles been reversed.
Lost in thought, she almost didn't notice the cheerful, but slightly teasing voice behind her say, "Oh, thank God!" Expecting the exclamation to be directed to some one else, she was slightly taken aback when she glance back, only to see the man staring straight at her. He was a fairly attractive man in his late 20's, dressed in a Red Wings Jersey. "Here I thought I was the only Wings fan here. My name's Jeremiah. Call me Jerry," he said extending an arm.
She smiled and shook the man's hand. "I'm Bree. Ok, so, I'm here because of a lost bet, but what would possibly possess you to do this? To come here in that, I mean," she said with a confused, slightly teasing look on her face.
The man laughed and simply replied, "I guess I was under the impression that there would be a section of Wings fans here. Then again, my source was my jerkoff of a brother." He rolled his eyes, in obvious disbelief in his own gullibility. An awkward silence followed as they inched their way closer to the front of the line. Searching for a new topic, Jerry recalled the last goal. "Some goal by Mercer, eh? He's a pretty good player."
She lifted her eyebrow as if about to question his choice in player, but then, noticing he was wearing a Mercer jersey, she thought better of it and decided it best to censor her thoughts on the player. She answered carefully, "It was a good shot. He's definitely a good player. He should just look into some anger management or something. But on the bright side, if the NHL doesn't work out for him, there's always coaching prison hockey. I have a feeling the prisoners would be much better behaved." They shared a brief laugh as Jerry nodded his head in agreement.
"Well, how would you like to meet him?" She lifted an eyebrow and opened her mouth, beginning to ask how he might arrange that. He seemed to comprehend because he explained "Meathead Mercer is my brother. He's the one that assured me that there would be more fans here. Typical Bobby move. But, anyway, what do you think? Wanna meet him?"
"If you can arrange it, sure." They continued their brief conversation until just before the third period started. They exchanged cell numbers and Jerry assured her that he would call her after the game to tell her where to meet them and they parted to get to their seats for the end of the game.
Ok, first off, I know, I know. A lot of hockey stuff, but that seemed like a good place for them to meet and it's hockey season (Yes!!!). Thanks to Matt or Mattastic as me and my friend call him for the last name for Bree. It's weird, but I like it. Anyway, my goal is to update frequently, but I don't quite have the whole story planned out. This is the first time I've actually written fan fic as opposed to just dreaming it. Thanks for reading and reviews. Feedback helps me a lot.